


Skeleton's Song

by MissSugarPink



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fantasy Racism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Undertale Saves and Resets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 02:05:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16734957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSugarPink/pseuds/MissSugarPink
Summary: You still remember it all. How could you forget? And it's just... so much. Way too much.You need to start again.





	Skeleton's Song

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this because it's been sitting in my drafts forever and was nearly completed, but I was never really sure what direction it was going. Here's the halfassed completed version written late at night on a burn-out session!

The air was cold that winter. It wasn’t as bad as Snowdin, though, you muse to yourself. You can’t help but smile at the thought. Snowdin really was cold when you were there last. You were jealous, when you first met Sans, of that nice, big jacket he always wore. It looked so warm, and he didn’t even need it. His bones didn’t feel the cold your flesh did.

You rubbed your arms, gripping onto the warm jacket tightly. It was just as warm as it had looked, back then. You tightened Papyrus’ scarf around your neck for more warmth. 

You tried to ignore the mutterings as you walked into the supermarket to buy more food. They had grown annoying years ago, but somehow they STILL persisted. It’d been… so, so many years, but you suppose racism will never end. Not in the human race. Monsters were better loved now, far better, but there were still those that thought your peculiar… predicament was odd. 

The only problem is, it was odd.

 

“Will that be all today, M’am?”

You stood at the cash register already. You didn’t even remember grabbing the shopping, but you already did evidently. You didn’t bother to correct him, just nodding. He smiled and began to slide your items through the scanner. “Heh, that’s a lot of ketchup.” You simply shrugged, putting your hands in your pockets. He didn’t make anymore small talk after that.

You grabbed your meager shopping bag and left the store. You started the long walk back to your house, sighing softly just to see your breath stain the air in a little puffy cloud. You stood still and look at the sky. Grey, but there. The monsters underground didn’t have this, all those years ago. They had all lived without that view. Now they had it. That was a good thing, right?

You didn’t see the stone in time.

“TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY MONSTER F---ER!”

You rubbed the side of your face, feeling the warm trickle of blood down your skull. It was a small cut above your right eyebrow. Hardly anything, but the stinging was enough to fuel a bit of anger in your chest. You glanced to the side, recognizing the man who threw the rock. He and his gang of friends all hated monsters. They also hated you. Of course they would hate you. After all, you’re the one who brought them here.

You watched him for a few seconds. He just kept cussing you out, screaming meaningless profanities at you. About how you brought all the monsters here. How you had messed everything up.

How… pointless.

The rage inside disappeared quickly. You just sighed and held the side of your face, continuing the long walk home.

 

“HUMAN! YOU TOOK SO LONG AT THE ST- WHAT HAPPENED?!”

You shrugged past Papyrus, putting the grocery bag on the counter. How’d you get here so fast? You supposed it hardly mattered. You’d gotten here just fine, either way. You reached under the sink and grabbed a bandage and a rag. Wetting the rag, you wiped away the dried blood on your face. Papyrus watched you, concerned, the entire time.

You washed the blood out of the rag before putting on the bandage. “HUMAN… I AM. VERY WORRIED ABOUT YOU.” Papyrus put his hand on your shoulder. You just put your own on his, patting it gently and giving him your best attempt at a smile. It was… lackluster, to say the least. Papyrus seemed satisfied for the time being, however. “VERY WELL, HUMAN. SHALL I MAKE SPAGHETTI TONIGHT?” You tried not to make a face… 

“heh. let’s leave the cooking to the human, okay paps?” You glanced behind yourself to see Sans leaning against the doorframe. He hadn’t been there when you walked in. He was grinning, as always. You’d lived with him for long enough now to know that something was wrong, though. “after all,” he said with a wink, “you know how much they love making italian food.”

“THEY DO???”

“why, making that is pastably their favorite thing to do!”

“SANS!”

You mustered up another small smile.

 

“HUMAN?! WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING UP?” 

You jolted in your seat, glancing back towards Papyrus’s room. You had to squint to see him - it was too dark. He was standing in the doorway, frowning to the best of his ability. He was wearing a ridiculous nightcap, and his pajamas looked warm, to say the least. It would keep anyone comfortable on these cold winter nights. You glanced at the time. 3 am.

Papyrus walked up to the couch, glancing at the TV. Some old re-run of some old show that you couldn’t even name. “HUMAN, IT IS DANGEROUS TO STAY UP SO LATE WATCHING THE TELEVISION. NOT ONLY THAT, BUT YOU’VE TURNED OFF ALL OF THE LIGHTS! THAT IS HORRIBLE FOR ANYBODY’S EYESIGHT.”  
You didn’t respond. You just nodded and stood, standing and walking to the television before clicking it off. Papyrus nodded approvingly. “THANK YOU, HUMAN. YOU SHOULD GO TO BED NOW! WE WILL HAVE A BRIGHT MORNING TOMORROW WITH PANCAKES AND A WALK IN THE PARK. DOES THAT SOUND NICE?” You nodded, unenthused. Papyrus shifted. “TOMORROW. SLEEP WELL, OKAY?”

“Goodnight, Papyrus,” you managed to mumble. 

He seemed ecstatic by the simple sentence. “GOODNIGHT, HUMAN!” 

You made your way to the bathroom, glancing in the mirror and ignoring the happy humming of Papyrus as he went to his bedroom. Dark circles under your eyes. Your long hair was getting unruly - another haircut was due soon, you supposed. You were still wearing that old jacket. You’d patched it up a lot since Sans had given it to you, all those years ago. It actually fit you, now. 

You took it off, leaving you in just your t-shirt and sweat pants. You glanced at your arm. Bruises and scars marred the skin you had, self inflicted or otherwise. They were permanent at this point. You took a deep breath and got dressed for bed.

 

You stared at the clock. 4 am, already? Incredible. You curled up tighter, holding your legs close to your chest under the blankets. You hardly noticed it, but you were wearing Sans’ old jacket again. You shut your eyes in a vain attempt to sleep again, shivering despite the blankets piled on top of you. It was just too cold.

 

You’re standing right in front of Sans. He’s curled up, right on his own bed, fast asleep. You feel warm - almost too warm - as you finally smile for the first time in years. Really smile. You’re grinning. You almost can’t hold back your laughter. You feel something tickle your spine.

 

You’re in the last hall too. He’s sweating, panting. He looks so tired, he’s almost falling right asleep.

Tick, tock, you hear something in the background.

Tick.

Tock.

You can hardly contain yourself, looking at his sleeping form. Slowly, you raise your hand. The knife glints in the moonlight.

“This is what happens when you take breaks, Sans.”

He gasps, stumbling back in the light of the hall. Shatter. Break. Screaming. You laugh. He screams and breaks apart. You keep slashing. You can’t stop. You’re crying. There’s so much screaming...

 

Screaming.

 

You screamed. You were screaming. Sans was shaking you, and Papyrus was kneeling beside your bed. You felt tears running down your face. Your hand had moved up to your neck in your sleep and had gripped it tightly, and your other had gone to your chest, right where your heart was. Protectively. 

You were choking yourself.

Sans tore your hand away. “human! c’mon, snap… snap outta it. we’re safe. you’re okay.”

You looked at both Papyrus and Sans in silence, panting and shuddering, your arm shaking in Sans’s grasp. Both of them watched you, scared. 

Your friends were scared.

You gulped, licking your lips and nodding. “N-Nightmare,” you managed to stutter out. 

“HUMAN! WE ARE HERE TO HELP!” Papyrus lunged forward, hugging you tightly. You just let him, reaching one hand around to pat him on the back. You glanced at Sans as Papyrus told you all the things he usually did on nights like these.

Sans’ pupils had gone black, and his smile had dropped just a bit. He looked… sympathetic. 

“-AND TOMORROW I CAN MAKE YOU ALL OF THE SPAGHETTI YOU COULD EVER WANT, AND WE CAN WATCH MANY MANY CARTOONS! DOES THAT SOUND GOOD?” 

Sans’s eyes stayed dark that night.

 

You woke up on the couch to Sans shaking you awake. “Heh. There you are, kid.”

You glanced at him, trying to just remember what had happened. That’s right… Papyrus had tucked you in and stayed with you until you fell asleep. You had woken up this morning and helped make breakfast, and then you all had sat and watched TV. Papyrus was out at Undyne’s for their weekly get together. It was just you and Sans.

You looked him over. He was wearing a hoodie, much like the one you were wearing now. He looked comfortable. Happy. But you knew that was all faked. “... wanna tell me what that dream last night was about, kid?”

“... I’m not a child anymore.”

He watched you and shut his eyes. “I guess you’re right. What is it now? 22?” You didn’t respond. He knew full well how old you were. He sighed softly, looking up at the ceiling. “you were 7 when we first met. remember, all that time ago?” No response. “but after about… What, 5 years? 6? you broke down. you ran away and left us all alone. and no matter how hard we tried to find you, we just couldn’t. we searched and searched and searched for you, kiddo. but you hid yourself pretty well.”

You didn’t have anything to say. You wanted to quip, “I had plenty of practice” but… That would’ve just been weird.

“how long ago was it that me and pap found you again, frisk?”

“... I think 7 years? Maybe 6.”

“it was 5. you’ve been here for 5 years. and you’re still…” He sighed. “i remember the night we found you. it was a coincidence. we just happened to spot you in that alley. it had been raining. do you remember?”

You shrugged softly. You did, sometimes. Remember, that is. 

“you were bleeding, too.”

You both went silent for awhile, just letting the TV fill up the silence on its own. Sans looked over at you again, brows furrowed and face… sad. “kid, what’s… what’s wrong? i’ve seen depression before - kid, i know exactly how it feels - but you look like you’re in hell.”

Because you really were, you supposed.

“Haven’t been sleeping.”

“i know the nightmares are bad, frisk, but you can tell me anything. i’m your friend. remember? i’m just… we’re all worried about you, frisk. undyne, alphys, paps… everyone’s scared that you’re gonna...”

You shut your eyes tightly. Of course. Your best friends. The friends you’d never hurt. Never, in a million years. You could never hurt them. You could never let them go. “Except I did…”

“huh?”

“I killed you, Sans. I killed all of you.” 

Silence.

 

“… yeah. i know, kiddo. i know.”

 

You were walking with Sans. It’d been… such a long day. You’d wager it was around 3 in the afternoon. You just wanted to go home and take a nap. You didn’t remember what you’d been doing all day. Sans didn’t seem to care. He just wanted you out of the house. You shivered, flipping up the hood of his jacket. Why was it so cold?

You kept walking. You saw an alleyway down the path. Today was a day you remembered. You remembered back to that night that they found you. Thunder. Rain. A hell of a lot of blood. Your arms tingled a bit as you thought of it all. The scars on your flesh prickled.

You glanced back at Sans. His hoodie looked soft. He seemed to sense you were watching him and looked at you. “feeling okay, kid?” he asked for what had to be the hundredth time today.

“Fine.”

“heh. no need to sound so indifferent about it.”

“It’s just fine.” You sigh, watching your breath puff out in front of you. Real. Here. The puff of air proved it.

“you seem cold.”

Cause it’s cold out. You shrugged and he sighed, rubbing his neck. Not much he could say, really. You didn’t leave many openings. 

 

Pasta. 

TV. 

Bed. It was 2am now.

 

7am. Nightmare.

You managed to stay quiet this time around. Your hand around your throat managed to cut off the sound this time, your hand clutched on your chest digging into the fabric of your shirt. Tears ran down your face, staining the blanket beneath you with little spots. You silently sobbed, forcibly tearing your hand off of your throat. 

You saw it in the corner of your eye.

 

Bright, orange, more yellow when you stared at it. Like a button. A magical button.

One press.

Just one.

And this would all go away.

Sort of.

 

You buried your head under your pillow and ignored it, shutting your eyes and letting the warm fuzzy jacket block out the feelings.

 

You stared in the mirror. There was a razor nearby for your armpits. You needed it sometimes, you hated the prickly feeling. You eyed it longingly.

What a shitty way to go. You sighed. It took so damn long to get the little blades through your skin. And for gods sake, it was pink.

“kiddo? you good in there?”

You cleared your throat. Your voice was raw. “Yeah. Fine.”

 

“frisk?”

You blinked, staring off of the cliffside at the setting sun. It was reflecting off the waves, in the distance. You were sitting, cross-legged, by the edge. So close.

“what’re you doin’ out here?” He sounded a little concerned under his punny façade. “it’s pretty chilly out here. don’t want you t-“

“I remember so much,” you said, suddenly, clearly, for the first time in days.

The birds, impossible birds, that couldn’t be there this late into winter, were impossibly loud.

 

“… what do you remember?” He sat next to you.

“… Voices.”

_It’s kill or be killed!_   
_Don’t you have anything better to do?_   
_it'd really help me out... if you kept pretending to be one._

“Things I think I did.”

_The echoes of something warm, something…_   
_Wait… don’t tell me. Is it Butterscotch?_   
_you turned around before i said to…_

“Things I can’t have done.”

_You're gonna have to try a little harder than THAT._   
_I called out. But nobody came._   
_i want you to know... i won't let it go to waste…_

You held your hand. “So much. There’s so many things. Things that directly contradict. I killed you. I KILLED YOU!”

“frisk-“

“MY NAME IS CHARA, SANS!”

 

You turned to him, hearing the air echo around you. “EVERYBODY KNOWS IT!”

He took a step back.

“I TRIED, SANS. I TRIED MY BEST.” God you TRIED. You had tried so hard, tried to do what you thought was right – you were just a dead kid! A kid with so much trauma, so much. So much pain. Too much pain. “There was no way to get it perfect! I-I always FUCKED IT UP!”

“kid-“

“And then, and then, the ICING on the CAKE. I could go BACK. I went back and fixed everything, over and over again, until it came out well – but once the barrier fell, I realized. I realized the HELL I was in. The Hell I had to live through because I FUCKED IT UP TOO MUCH!”

You held your head. It was too much. Too loud. You laughed and cried. So many parts of you were crying.

“frisk, please-“

“My. Name. Is.”

“chara! fine! chara, please, calm down.” He sat next to you, the man you’d laughed and cried with so many times before. “you… you went through a lot, okay? more than any kid should ever go through. but we can help you. we can get through this.”

“I’m TRYING Sans!” You choked a little on your snot. Ugh. “I’m trying so fucking hard. It’s all so hard now. It was so much easier as a child, before I ran away, before I couldn’t take the memories anymore, the nightmares.”

“i know. i know kid, it’s…” He held you. “i get em too, sometimes. we all do. we all got fucked up by those timelines.”

“I just got the short end of the stick,” you said bitterly.

“… yeah. you did.”

 

There was silence awhile. You sighed. Sans grinned hesitantly next to you. “paps used to need a song when he had a nightmare. somethin’ to calm him down.”

You sniffed. “Oh?”

Sans nodded and started to hum a soft song. Lots of repeating, soft notes. Perfect for a calming lullaby. Your eyes slowly lowered as you felt yourself relax. Somehow, the song just… calmed you down. You felt like the things you had been thinking of were fading, somewhat, somehow.

You fell asleep.

 

You woke to one last nightmare. The same nightmare. But this time, the blood, all the blood and crying came from yourself. You had stabbed yourself in the dream. Ended it all. Ended it early. Ended it the best way you could have. A human soul. A boss monster. The barrier, broken.

 

You looked to your right.

 

You couldn’t. Not anymore. You reached out.

 

There came a knock at the door.

 

You hesitated. You were now faced with a choice. You could either wait a little longer and open the door, or…

You could end it all. It would be worse for the next one. It always would. And you would still remember and resent yourself.

But in that timeline…….

 

You still hadn’t tried to kill yourself in an alleyway and scared all of your friends. You still hadn’t made them scared. You hadn’t hurt yourself or them.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“frisk???”

“I’m sorry.”

[*RESET]


End file.
